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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924545">Predator Vs Prey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristianVega/pseuds/ChristianVega'>ChristianVega</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Peter Parker, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Catholic Guilt, M/M, Peter Parker is a Mess, Prophetic Dreams, Protective Wade Wilson, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Wade Wilson Loves Peter Parker, Wade Wilson has feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristianVega/pseuds/ChristianVega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Wade Wilson is a werewolf and Peter Parker is a werewolf hunter who isn't very good at his job.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Wade Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I turn my medallion over in my hands, tracing the words engraved in the silver. ‘Deliver us from evil.’ My uncle who raised me passed this family heirloom onto me when he died and that’s why I’m here in the middle of the woods cleaning my gun and loading it with silver bullets. Tonight’s the full moon. That means it’s my chance to do what my medallion says.</p><p>I finish loading the gun then place it securely in my thigh holster. I head into the tiny bathroom in my rented cabin and shave the stubble from my face. Once I’m done shaving, I attempt to check my e-mail and text messages. My boss rented me this cabin a week ago, completely secluded in the middle of the woods. The wifi and cell phone reception are unreliable at best, but what can I expect in the middle of nowhere?</p><p>“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I’d told my boss, Tony, as I sat in his office recently.</p><p>“I know you’ve only been working here for a year, but you’ve been preparing your whole life for this, Peter,” he assured me. “You’re the only one here who hasn’t gone an official hunt yet and I think it’s about time, don’t you? You’ve been training long enough.”</p><p>I couldn’t argue with that. “I guess so,” I’d said, shrugging.</p><p>He handed me a folder with the address of the cabin and a map of the area. “You’ve got this,” he told me.</p><p>I arrived, unpacked and settled in a week ago. I didn’t bring many belongings with me besides my hunting gear. Clothes, toothbrush, food, laptop and cell phone, a DVD, and a book to pass the time. Stake outs can be so boring, so much waiting and watching. It’s left me feeling restless.</p><p>Everyday I make my rounds in the woods, settling and checking traps. There’s several nets and a lot of bear traps made of silver. The bear traps are specially made for catching the wolves. It’s not meant to kill, but to trap the wolf there until the hunter comes along to finish the job. To unlock it once it has gone off, you need to use a special key, so the wolf has no way of possibly freeing itself. The heavy duty silver chains anchoring the trap won’t allow the wolf to try to crawl away.</p><p>I’ve been checking for any signs of the wolves nearby. They’ve stayed well hidden so far but not too much longer now. The full moon tonight will bring them out.</p><p>It’s a tale as old as time, fear of monsters hiding among us. “In this world, you’re either the hunter or the prey,” uncle ben had told me countless times as I was growing up. “This family has always hunted beasts. You find a bad guy, you kill him then. It’s simple.”</p><p>I don’t think he ever felt good about killing them, but it did make him feel powerful and full of purpose. “Your time will come,” he’d tell me. And I was eager to feel powerful and purposeful too.</p><p>My uncle lost his life due to to a broken trap. Now it’s up to me to carry on the family legacy. It’s a heavy weight to carry but I’m determined to prove myself. My boss only hired me because of my uncle’s reputation. I can’t let everyone down.</p><p>From the time I was little, my very Catholic family made it clear that the wolves are evil. The church has a long history of hunting beasts. Evil must never win. It’s us humans against them and if we don’t get rid of them then they’ll kill us humans. So far there haven’t been any reports of murder in this area, but we know the wolves are here because some sheep were taken from a local farm and found torn apart in the woods. “Only a monster would do something like that,” My boss had said. “It’s only a matter of time before it’s people turning up slaughtered.”</p><p>I slide my hunting knife into the sheath on my belt, sling my crossbow onto my back, and head out to double check my traps. I can’t make any mistakes or it could cost me my life.</p><p>The sun is starting to set as I make my way back to the cabin. I’m full of anxious energy but finally I manage to drift asleep. I dream about a lake sparkling in the sunlight, warmth, the smell of trees, a sense of peace and belonging. I’ve had this same dream a million times. Is it a message? A message saying that there’s a place I belong but I don’t know where to find it.</p><p>“Peter,” a deep voice says in the dream and someone places their hand on my shoulder. I turn to face the man but I always wake up before I can see his face.</p><p>This time I stay asleep but the dream abruptly switches to a different one. I’ve been having this one for a month now. There’s a big reddish brown wolf running through the trees. He passes by a tree with a red ribbon knotted on one of the lower branches. I saw a tree like that in real life, close to where I set one of my traps. It’s just a coincidence but maybe it’ll be good luck.</p><p>The alarm I set wakes me up at the first sign of daylight. I hurry to pull my clothes on, strap on my weapons, and head out to check my traps for werewolves.</p><p>---</p><p>I move through the woods carefully, cautious not to step on any twigs or rustle any leaves. Werewolves have very good hearing. Could I really have caught one? My heart is racing in my chest. I have to be careful. If the trap broke and the wolf escaped, it could be waiting with its friends to kill me.</p><p>I can’t let myself be too afraid. I need to stay focused. If I fail to catch a wolf, my boss might fire me. That cannot happen. This is my destiny, I tell myself. I can do this.</p><p>I start moving faster, not wanting to risk the captured wolf calling its friends for help. Finally I reach the tree with the red ribbon. I hide behind it and peek out slowly to see what’s awaiting me. My heart nearly stops and there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the sight before me.</p><p>There’s a muscular naked man on the ground struggling with the bear trap clamped onto his leg. His skin is smeared with dirt and blood. Blood is still dripping from his wound and onto the dirt below him. It makes me want to throw up.</p><p>The man isn’t screaming like I thought he’d be. He’s just groaning quietly and mumbling curses. “Shit… fuck… damn it… “ His back is to me as he continues to try to free himself. The trap is specifically designed so that even a werewolf with their enhanced strength is no match for prying it open. </p><p>It’s time to come up with a plan. I can’t leave the wolf here forever. I have a job to do. I want to impress Mr. Stark. Maybe I can get information from the wolf before I have to kill it. That would impress Tony, wouldn’t it? The wolves are notoriously hard to find and even harder to get information from. They’re good at hiding. Not that people would approach them anyway. Normal people tend to shy away from them instinctively as if they sense the danger.</p><p>I pull out my gun and approach the werewolf, staying just out of reach. The man looks up at me and says “Mother fucker!”</p><p>Why did no one warn me that the wolf would look like a man? Is it a trick? Is it an involuntary response to being injured? Could it not stay in its wolf form for some reason? Or did it shift back on purpose to use human hands to free itself. I have so many questions. Like why does he have a massive scar across his face from what can only be claw marks?</p><p>The man’s blue eyes meet mine. I freeze. This is so much more difficult when I’m looking at a man instead of a beast. “Werewolf,” I say aloud to remind myself that this is no human.</p><p>“You’re here to kill me?” The man asks me.</p><p>“Yes,” I admit. Why do I feel so guilty? This is my destiny. The wolf is evil.</p><p>I pick up a ripped piece of discarded tarp and toss it at the wolf. “Cover yourself. I have some questions for you.”</p><p>“You’re here to murder me but you’re bothered by a little nudity?” The man asks, covering his lap and wincing in pain.</p><p>“I ask the questions here. Not you.” I keep the gun aimed at him to remind him who’s in charge. “How many people have you killed?”</p><p>“How many wolves have you killed?” This werewolf is mouthy.</p><p>“I asked you first.”</p><p>“None,” he answers. “I haven’t killed any. Have you?”</p><p>I’m so caught off guard that I find myself blurting out an answer before I can stop myself. “I’ve never killed anyone. This is my first hunt.”</p><p>“I’m not answering anymore questions,” the man says. “If you’re going to kill me just get it over with.”</p><p>Oh no… this is not going as planned. Not at all. This isn’t the insidious beast I expected. This isn’t an evil murderer. This is just a man who happens to turn into a wolf on the full moon.</p><p>I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t come here to kill an innocent man. Why did I have to catch the one wolf who isn’t evil?</p><p>“Wait…” I say, hesitating.</p><p>“Go suck a cock,” the man tells me.</p><p>Okay, I deserve that I guess. I feel like the world’s biggest loser right now. I hate this. I hate this all so much.</p><p>“I’m not going to kill you,” I tell the werewolf. “I’ve changed my mind.”</p><p>“What?” the werewolf is understandably confused.</p><p>“I’m not going to kill you,” I repeat. “You said you haven’t killed anyone and I believe you. I’m not here to kill an innocent.”</p><p>I can just tell in my gut that this man is telling the truth. I always trust my intuition and it’s never failed me yet.</p><p>“Oh, well, that’s nice of you I guess.”</p><p>I am filled with regret and guilt. I want to climb into a hole in the ground and never show my face to anyone again. Why did no one told me that the wolf would look like a man? That the wolf would talk to me and be honest? That the wolf would be innocent instead of an evil beastly killing machine? I was told of these evil beings that needed to be put down before they exterminated the human race. It was like a scary story you tell at night. But is any of that even true?</p><p>“Are you going to attack me if I set you free?” I take a step closer to him.</p><p>“Hello no! Just get me out of here!”</p><p>I put the gun away and kneel down, pulling out the key to unlock the trap.</p><p>“What’s in this for you? Letting me go? What do you get out of it?”</p><p>Are all werewolves this mouthy?</p><p>I don’t answer, instead focusing on undoing the lock. This close to the man I can smell him, sweat and trees and dirt. It’s not completely unpleasant. I expected him to smell like a dog. There’s some wolf furs covered in blood stuck to the trap. It makes me feel sick. I try to ignore it.</p><p>“Oh, I see,” he says, pointing at the medallion hanging around my neck. “Catholic guilt. That’s a bummer.”</p><p>“I’m not Catholic,” I tell him. The key jams. I pull it out and try again.</p><p>“But your family is, right? It’s secondhand guilt.”</p><p>“That’s none of your business,” I say. “Be quiet for a minute so I can focus if you don’t want to be stuck here all day.”</p><p>Finally the key turns over properly and the trap springs free. He lets out a growl and I tumble backwards, falling down into the dirt, sure that he’s going to attack me.<br/>
“Fuck, that hurts like a bitch!” he shouts, still laying on the ground and holding his wounded leg.</p><p>“Did you just growl at me?” I ask him.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to… uh… thanks for letting me go.”</p><p>“I didn’t do it for you.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Like you said, I did it to ease my guilt.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>I still don’t know anything about this man and I don’t know if he can be trusted. Just because he’s not a murderer doesn’t mean he’s a good person.</p><p>“Where are your wolf friends?” I ask him, surprised that no others have shown up to help him out or attack me for hurting him. I know that all wolves have packs because I was told that lone wolves don’t survive for very long, they eventually go crazy and get put down.</p><p>“They’re not in the area right now.”</p><p>Seriously? I guess that would explain why he wasn’t howling to them or anything. He came out here alone.</p><p>“Can you walk?” I ask him.</p><p>The man attempts to get to his feet but barely gets off the ground at all before collapsing. “Shit!”</p><p>“Yeah…” I echo the sentiment. This isn’t good. “You’re bleeding real bad,” I tell him. “You’ve probably lost a lot of blood already. We need to clean that up and bandage it.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“There’s no one else around to help you and I can’t just let you die here. You can’t even walk.”</p><p>Bandaging his wound won’t make up for what I did. I attacked this man without having proof he was evil. That is not okay. My whole life I was prepared for this, to kill werewolves, how did I end up helping one?</p><p>“Do you live close to here? Should I take you home?” I ask him.</p><p>“No,” he says.</p><p>I raise an eyebrow. “No to which part?”</p><p>“Just no.”</p><p>I sigh. Maybe I should just leave him here to fend for himself. That would be easier in some ways. But it wouldn’t ease my guilt at all. If I leave him here he’ll end up hurting himself worse and then most likely end up dead from bleeding out.</p><p>“Look, I don’t like you.”</p><p>Well, that’s fair I guess.</p><p>“But since you did wound me then it’s only fair you help fix it. So if it makes you feel better, then I won’t stop you.”</p><p>I move in closer to help him up. He starts to put his arm around my shoulder then recoils quickly as if I burned him.</p><p>“Take that off,” he says, pointing to my silver medallion. “It stings when it touches my skin.”</p><p>I step back and take the medallion off, placing it into the pocket of my jeans. Then I move in again and help him onto his feet. He leans his weight on me. He’s taller than me and his body is made up of solid bulky muscle whereas my muscle is more the lean and toned kind. I manage not to fall over under his weight and start maneuvering him in the direction of my cabin. “I have first aid supplies at the cabin I’m renting,” I explain. “We can fix you up there, good as new.”</p><p>“Whatever you say.”</p><p>My location is going to be compromised now. Once he’s on his way then I have to be on my way even quicker. I can’t let him go back to wherever he came from and tell his friends. They’ll most certainly come after me for revenge. I’ll leave as soon as I fix this mess I made.</p><p>I get him into the cabin and over onto the shabby plaid couch in the living area. I fetch my first aid kit from the bathroom and come sit on the coffee table. The coffee table looks to be handmade of wood and it wobbles when I sit but doesn’t break. I give him a towel to cover his lap with and a quilt to wrap around his shoulder. Then I get to work cleaning the wound.</p><p>He winces but doesn’t cry out in pain. He stays very quiet which is a change to his usual mouthiness. “Does it hurt?” I realize that’s a stupid question as soon as the words are out of my mouth. “I mean, do you want some pain medicine or something? I think I have some tylenol.”</p><p>He shakes his head. “We metabolize it too quickly, wouldn’t do any good.”</p><p>I feel terrible about this. I caused this. “How fast will you heal from this?” I remember hearing about werewolves having an advanced healing factor. I wonder if that’s true. He doesn’t seem to be bleeding as badly anymore. He probably won’t bleed out as long as we bandage this up properly and he takes it easy. At least, I hope so.</p><p>“Probably a couple days,” he admits. “It’s silver so it takes longer to heal.”</p><p>“Oh…” I apply some antibiotic cream so that the wound won’t get infected then start bandaging his leg. Now that I’m up close and touching him, I’m able to get a better look at him. I'm still curious about the scar across his face but it doesn’t take away from his good looks. He has strong a strong jawline and cheekbones and full lips. All of the solid muscle and, how tall he is, his strong wide shoulders, and big hands, all make me feel something that I shouldn’t. He’s so tall and muscular and fuck… I can’t be thinking about this. He’s a werewolf, even though he looks like a man, and I nearly killed him which means it’s wrong in so many ways.</p><p>“My name is Wade,” the werewolf tells me suddenly.</p><p>He has a name. Of course he does. “My name is Peter,” I say back, because it seems like the only thing to say in response. I wish I could say nice to meet you but that doesn’t seem right. He probably hates me and I don’t blame him.</p><p>Before he can respond, my phone starts vibrating in my back pocket, louder against the coffee table that I’m sitting on. Wade gazes at me curiously.</p><p>“Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s just my boss.”</p><p>“Answer it,” he encourages.</p><p>I know that Mr. Stark will just keep calling back if I don’t. I finish the bandage quickly then pull my phone out of my pocket and answer it. Can the werewolf with his enhanced hearing pick up everything my boss is saying? I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.</p><p>“Did you catch anything?” Tony asks me immediately.</p><p>I stare into Wade’s blue eyes. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I know I let you down.” I hate lying to Mr. Stark and I hate disappointing him just as much. But I can’t tell him the truth. I have no other choice. If I tell him the truth then he might come here to do what I couldn’t or wouldn’t do. Tony thinks that all werewolves are evil. He’s so set in his ways and beliefs, I can’t imagine changing his mind.</p><p>“It’s alright, kid,” he says. Why does he insist on calling me kid when I’m twenty-one years old? “Why don’t you stay out there a few more days? Keep looking and maybe you’ll find something useful, some signs of the wolves or something. Then I can send a bigger team out there for the next full moon.”</p><p>That buys me a little more time so that sounds like a good plan to me for now until I figure all of this out. “Okay, thanks Mr. Stark.”</p><p>“I’ll check in with you again soon,” he promises.</p><p>I hang up and look at Wade. I expect him to comment on my conversation but he doesn’t. Instead he yawns and rubs his eyes sleepily. He’s probably exhausted from bleeding out.<br/>
There’s no way he can make it back to wherever he came from tonight. So I make an offer since there doesn’t seem to be any other options. “You can stay here,” I say. “Get some rest. You’ll never make it back to your home in this condition. And I’ll feel like worse shit if you try to go home and die on the way there. I won’t bother you or anything. You can get some sleep where you’ll be safe.”</p><p>He sort of frowns at the idea of this being a safe place after I wounded him with my trap, but he doesn’t seem to have the strength to argue. “Alright,” he says.</p><p>I bring him an extra pillow for the couch and cover him up with the quilt. He drifts asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. I leave him alone and go to my bedroom to read and try to distract myself from all of the damage I caused today.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I can see Wade sleeping on my couch in the morning. He looks very comfortable and peaceful so I go to cook breakfast quietly, not wanting to disturb him. It’s better for him to get as much rest as possible so he can heal quickly.</p><p>I don’t have any idea what kind of food he likes but take a chance on making an omelette and bacon. He wakes up just as I finish cooking. I bring him a plate and a glass of orange juice. He moves over on the couch so that I can sit down as well.</p><p>“I’m starving,” he tells me. “Thanks.”</p><p>I sit as far away from him as possible and try to focus on eating my breakfast. The quilt he has wrapped around him slides down to his waist as he eats. His muscular upper body is on full display along with his six-pack abs. I shouldn’t be staring.</p><p>“What are your plans for today?” he asks me.</p><p>“I don’t know,” I say. “I should probably go take down all my traps at some point.”</p><p>“Oh… yeah… probably.”</p><p>This is all so awkward. Or maybe it’s just me being naturally awkward. “How’s your leg feeling today? We should change the bandage and see how it’s looking.”</p><p>“It doesn’t hurt as badly today,” he admits. “In a couple days I’ll be as good as new.”</p><p>I put our dishes in the sink then fetch my first aid kit again. When I unwrap his leg, I’m pleased to see that it hasn’t been bleeding anymore through the night. It’s definitely beginning to heal, which makes me feel relieved. In a couple days this whole mess will be over. I’ll leave this place and forget that all of this happened. Except I know that I’m lying to myself. I’ll never be able to forget this, will I?</p><p>“I want to come with you,” Wade announces.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“To watch you take the traps down.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“To make sure you get them all.”</p><p>“Can you walk?” I ask skeptically. He obviously doesn’t trust me completely, despite spending the night here. I guess it’s what I deserve. “You’re welcome to stay here today if you need to so you can recover.”</p><p>Wade shakes his head. “I’m starting to feel trapped here. I can leave anytime I want to, right?”</p><p>“Of course,” I say. “You’re not a prisoner.”</p><p>He gives me a skeptical look of his own. “I can walk slowly. If you don’t mind me slowing you down, then I can go with you.”</p><p>“Fine,” I sigh. “Let me find something for you to wear though.”</p><p>I find the loosest pair of gym shorts that I own but still they’re small on him. They’re nearly skin tight and a little short on him. Maybe it would have been better to leave him wrapped in the quilt…</p><p>I have to help him up off of the couch but once he gets his bearings he’s able to make his way to the bathroom to put the shorts on then follow me outside. As we slowly make our way through the woods, he asks me “Aren’t you a little young to be a hunter?”</p><p>“I’m twenty-one years old,” I tell him. “I’m plenty old enough to be a hunter.”</p><p>“Sure you are, Baby,” he says, sounding amused.</p><p>I frown in response but don’t say anything else to encourage him further. Wade watches in eerie silence as I take down each trap. I can’t read his expression. It must be uncomfortable for him seeing me take down the traps I set to kill him, the same traps I wounded him with. It’s certainly uncomfortable for me too. I’m overcome with a sense of guilt and shame. I failed and Mr. Stark is going to be so disappointed when I don’t even bring him back any good evidence about the wolves being here at all. I fucked this whole thing up in so many ways.</p><p>“Ugh, fuck me,” he says suddenly after being silent for a while.</p><p>“No thank you?” I reply, confused.</p><p>“It’s starting to rain.”</p><p>I look up at the darkening sky just as a rain drop lands on my forehead. “Oh.” I shove my net into my backpack and throw the bear traps into a rusty wagon I found outside the cabin. I had carried each trap into the woods individually but this is the quickest way to get it all back to the cabin. Besides, my cabin location is no longer a secret so it’s not like wagon wheel tracks in the grass can really give me away anymore. “This was the last trap. We’d better head back now.”</p><p>Wade limps along as quickly as possible but we’re both completely drenched by the time we get back to the cabin. A loud rumble of thunder nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I head into the bathroom and grab two clean towels, tossing one to Wade and using the other to dry myself off. </p><p>“Have to get out of these wet shorts,” he says, and starts taking the shorts off right in front of me. I catch a quick glimpse of his ass that makes my face heat up despite the chill from the rain. I look away quickly and head to my bedroom to change my own clothes.</p><p>I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a dry hoodie. I offer him my extra pair of sweatpants and again they look ridiculously short and tight on him. I try not to look at him and instead go to the closet to pull out a couple old board games I saw on the top shelf earlier. I have to stand up on my tiptoes to try to reach. All of a sudden he’s behind me, nearly pressed against my back, and I gasp. “You can’t just sneak up on people!” I scold him. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”</p><p>“Sorry, let me reach that for you.”</p><p>He pulls the games down and we set Scrabble up on the coffee table. I go to the kitchen, grabbing a couple different bags of potato chips, and some bottled water. I set it down within his reach and tell him “Help yourself to the food.”</p><p>As we play Scrabble and listen to the thunderstorm raging outside, Wade rambles constantly. He jumps from topic to top often, changing subject quickly. He tells me about his favorite kinds of foods, his favorite Mexican restaurant where he gets the best burritos and tacos, and then switches topics to what kind of music he enjoys. At some point he starts asking me questions.</p><p>“Did you go to a hunter school or how do you become one?” He asks, catching me off guard.</p><p>I shake my head. “My parents died when I was little. I was taken in by my aunt and uncle. Uncle Ben was a hunter just like his father and grandfather before him. He taught me. But he was out on a hunt and one of his traps broke. A wolf got loose and killed him.”</p><p>I don’t think I should be telling a werewolf about all of this but there doesn’t seem to be anything better to do while we sit here waiting out the storm.</p><p>“Well shit…” he says. “That’s unfortunate.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I agree. </p><p>“Yes! Triple letter score!” he cheers for himself.</p><p>I have a lot of questions for him too but am unsure whether he’ll answer them  all. “How did you… become a werewolf?”</p><p>“That’s easy,” he says. “I was born this way just like Lady Gaga.”</p><p>“So you don’t attack and bite people then? That’s just a myth?”</p><p>He makes a face like he’s disgusted by the idea. “Of course I don’t bite people. The fuck are you learning in hunter school?”</p><p>There’s no such thing as hunter school, more like a training course, but I don’t want to explain all of that to him right now. “Not all werewolves are as chatty as you,” I say instead. The werewolves who are caught in hunters traps don’t usually decide it’s a good time to tell their life story and secrets.</p><p>Wade shrugs in response. “I’m one in a million, Baby boy.”</p><p>What’s with him and these nicknames? I’m not sure how it makes me feel. I decide to change the subject again. “Do you have family? Wolf parents or whatever? Since you said you were born that way.”</p><p>“I did have parents at one time,” he answers. “They were sort of like pack leaders to many. Good people. But they died when I was a teenager. There was a fire.”</p><p>It’s not a lot of information but I can tell that it makes him uncomfortable to talk about and I’m not going to press him for more details. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him. It’s strange to imagine werewolves truly living in society owning restaurants and no one knowing that they turned into beasts every full moon. That means so many people’s worst fear is true. But could they have just been productive members of society who others looked up to and didn’t hurt anyone? After so many years of being taught that werewolves were all evil and wanted to kill humans, it’s still hard to believe that might not be true.</p><p>We finish the scrabble game, Wade wins and cheers for himself shouting “In your face.” I try to hide my laugh. I end up going to bed after that. I try not to worry about everything going on and instead try to imagine in my mind that peaceful lake I always dream about. I drift asleep, hoping for soothing dreams. Instead I dream of something frightening.</p><p>There’s a hunter in the woods, a werewolf hunter. I catch sight of him walking through the trees, a gun in hand, silver bullets tucked into a belt on his waist. In my dream, the man stops by the tree with the red ribbon and looks around for any sign of wolves. He bends down to inspect something on the ground. Did I leave something there? Am I leading another hunter right to Wade?</p><p>When I wake up in the morning, Wade is still asleep on the couch. I take the time to shower and get ready for the day. When he wakes up I ask him “Do you like pancakes?”</p><p>He looks at me as if I’m insane. “Who doesn’t like pancakes?”</p><p>While Wade showers, I cook pancakes. I reflect on the dream I had last night, wondering if it could mean anything. It’s just a dream, isn’t it? It can’t come true. Even if it did seem so real. It’s difficult to shake it off though. What if it is true somehow? What if there really is another hunter nearby? They could find their way to the cabin easily. I didn’t cover my tracks. They’ll find Wade and kill him and it will be all my fault. I already feel guilty for trapping and injuring Wade, now a hunter could be coming to do the job that I was unable to.</p><p>Wade walks up behind me, making sure to make enough noise so that he doesn’t startle me. He gazes over my shoulder at the pancakes I’m finishing up cooking. “You smell,” he announces.</p><p>“What?” I flinch away from him, frowning. “I just showered.”</p><p>“No, you smell like anxiety,” he clarifies.</p><p>I didn’t know that anxiety even had a smell. “Oh…”</p><p>“Is something wrong?”</p><p>I’m not sure how to answer that question. It’s complicated. “It’s going to sound stupid,” I tell him, piling the pancakes onto two plates.</p><p>“Try me,” he encourages.</p><p>I take out some orange juice, pouring two glasses. We take our food to the living room to eat on the couch. I watch as he drowns his pancakes in a sea of maple syrup before taking a bite.</p><p>“Perfect,” he tells me.</p><p>“I had a dream last night that there was another hunter in the area,” I finally force the words out. I expect him to laugh or make a joke but he doesn’t.</p><p>“It’s obviously bothering you, so why don’t you go check it out?” he suggests.</p><p>“I’ll feel stupid,” I say.</p><p>He slowly licks syrup from his lips. It looks more obscene than it should. I try to stay focused on the conversation instead of thoughts of what it’d be like to kiss him. “I haven’t known you very long, but you don’t seem stupid to me at all.”</p><p>I can feel my face starting to get red from the compliment and it annoys me. “Alright, I’ll go check it out I guess. It can’t hurt to go out there and make sure we didn’t miss anything anyway.”</p><p>“I could go with you,” he offers.</p><p>I immediately shake my head. “No way, you stay here!” I insist. “If there is a hunter out there then I don’t want him anywhere near you. I let you go and it won’t be worth the trouble if you get killed so soon by another hunter.”</p><p>He shrugs. “Alright, I’ll stay here.”</p><p>“Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone,” I tell him.</p><p>“Me? Trouble? Never,” he says, chuckling.</p><p>I roll my eyes at him, unimpressed. Then I head out, going towards the tree with the red ribbon. I stay alert, aware of my surroundings at all times. When I see the tree, I’m holding my breath in anticipation, expecting the other hunter to be there. But there’s no one. Just me. And I do feel kind of stupid.</p><p>I kick dirt over any signs that there was once the heavy metal trap on the ground and the blood that had pooled there. I smooth out any tire tracks from my wagon in the grass. I’ll leave no trace of us ever being here, just in case.</p><p>I’m about to head home when I hear a twig snap nearby. I turn quickly, reaching for my gun. And I come face to face with the man from my dream. An eerie sort of deja vu sensation hits me and I feel sick.</p><p>“What are you doing out here?” the man stops a short distance away from me.</p><p>Usually I would make up something, saying I’m camping in the area or something. But I am sure that he’s a hunter. So instead I tell him “I’m a werewolf hunter, aren’t you?”</p><p>He seems caught off guard. “Any proof?”</p><p>I slowly reach into my pocket, so not to spook him, and pull out my wallet to show him my werewolf hunting license. He steps closer and squints at it.</p><p>“Oh,” he says, relaxing. “Have you found any wolves out here?”</p><p>I shake my head. “Been out here for a little over a week,” I say. “Was here for the full moon. Nothing. A waste of time. I already packed up all my traps and I’m heading home. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste my time out here any longer either.”</p><p>He’s young, probably still training. He hasn’t shown me his hunting license so he probably doesn’t even have one. I’m hoping he’ll just take me at my word and leave.</p><p>The stranger sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, alright,” he agrees. “Have you heard any new tips or sightings?”</p><p>The only way to get rid of this man quickly is to send him on a wild goose chase. Then I’ll know he’s gone for sure. I don’t want to lie but I can’t have him screwing things up worse for me. “Yeah, my boss just sent word of a recent sighting in Virginia. Was thinking of heading South myself to check it out. I have to check in with my boss still, but you could probably get a good head start before any other hunters get there.”</p><p>“Thanks man,” he says, grinning excitedly. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>I’m not ready to go back to hunting. Instead of the sense of purpose I’d been searching for, hunting only gives me overwhelming anxiety now. I’m still so confused about many things.</p><p>With the other hunter out of the way for now and my tracks covered, I go back to my cabin. Wade is sitting on the couch playing a game of Solitaire with cards on the coffee table. “Hey Baby boy,” he greets me, smiling. It’s almost like he’s happy to see me…</p><p>I sit down next to him. “There was another hunter,” I inform him. “An amateur I think. I convinced him to leave and follow a lead I made up.”</p><p>“Wow!” Wade sounds genuinely impressed. “My hero!”</p><p>I’m no hero, that’s for sure, especially since I’m the one who trapped Wade. I’m just making up for the damage I’ve done. “How’s your leg?” I attempt to change the subject.</p><p>“It’s nearly good as new now.” He stretches and I struggle not to stare at his muscular thighs, the shorts he borrowed from me being way too short and leaving way too much skin on display. It’s distracting. “I can go home tomorrow.”</p><p>“Oh… that’s great,” I say lamely. I’m not eager to return to Mr. Stark and to hunting. And if I’m being honest, it hasn’t been terrible having Wade around for company. It was boring being here alone just waiting and watching for nonexistent signs of wolves. “I mean, I’m sure you’re eager to get away from all of this.”</p><p>“All of this?” He questions.</p><p>By all of this I meant me, I give him an awkward shrug.</p><p>“You must be excited, right?” he asks me.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I’m healed. No more guilt. Get out of jail free card.”</p><p>I wish it was that simple.</p><p>“You don’t have to force yourself to take care of me anymore.”</p><p>Force myself? I shake my head. “I haven’t hated this. It hasn’t been so bad.”</p><p>His eyes widen. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I confess, trying not to turn red from embarrassment.</p><p>“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Flattery will get you everywhere, baby.” He gives me a suggestive grin.</p><p>I don’t know how to respond to that so I simply say “You’re weird.”</p><p>Wade seems to take that as a compliment. “I know.” He leans in closer to me, looking into my eyes. “So tell me Peter, how many of your dreams come true? Are you psychic?”</p><p>I think of fake fortune tellers at carnivals profiting off of fools. Being psychic is nonsense. It’s not real. “I’m not psychic.”</p><p>“But how many of your dreams come true?”</p><p>“Once in a while there’s a coincidence,” I answer. “I’m sure that happens to everyone. It’s no big deal.”</p><p>“Did you dream about me?”</p><p>“No, I… I dreamt about the tree with the red ribbon and a reddish brown wolf.”</p><p>“That’s me!” he exclaims loudly, startling me. “You did dream about me!”</p><p>This is awkward. How do I get myself out of this conversation?</p><p>“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he assures me. “It’s cool, like a superpower!”</p><p>I frown. “I don’t have superpowers.”</p><p>“Being normal is boring.”</p><p>All of this attention is beginning to make me uncomfortable. No one’s ever though I was special in any way and I like it that way. All my life I’ve just wanted to fit in. Becoming a hunter, fitting in there and carrying on my family legacy, that was my chance. Wade is ruining everything. Or maybe I am.</p><p>“I think you might be able to help me with something,” Wade announces.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Someone’s out to get me. It’s not good.”</p><p>“I’m going to need more details than that. How can I help?”</p><p>“You’re smart, you have good instincts, and your magic dreams.”</p><p>I scowl at him. “I’m not magic.”</p><p>“Okay.” Wade puts his hands up in surrender. “But your dream did just save me from that hunter. So maybe you can help get me out of this situation too, or at least warn me if this guy comes for me again.”</p><p>I don’t like the sound of this. What kind of werewolf trouble am I being dragged into? I’m already way more involved than I ever meant to be.</p><p>“I’m not special,” I tell him. “I can’t make any promises that I’d be able to do anything you’re expecting of me.”</p><p>“Imagination, intuition, whatever it is you’ve got it. Can’t you just try? Give this a chance.”</p><p>This is making my head hurt. I rub my temples and sigh. “I helped you recover from your injury. Now you’re all healed. I don’t owe you anymore.”</p><p>“Of course you don’t! That’s not what I was thinking. What kind of guy do you take me for?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” I admit.</p><p>“Who hurt you, Baby boy? This isn’t… I’m just asking for your help.”</p><p>“Isn’t there anyone else? The police?”</p><p>Wade shakes his head. “No. I don’t have any proof yet and the police don’t exactly like associating with my kind.”</p><p>I guess that’s true. Everyone thinks the wolves are bad news.</p><p>“We can help each other,” Wade suggests. “You can learn more about wolves and I’ll pay you for being my lookout person.”</p><p>I raise an eyebrow. “Lookout person? What even is that?”</p><p>“Bodyguard? Detective? All of the above? Labels are overrated.”</p><p>This is ridiculous. I’m not actually considering it, am I? The idea of me being a sort of bodyguard to a tall muscular man makes me want to laugh like it’s a bad joke. The irony of being hired to protect the same man I was hired to kill is almost too much. Have I crossed into some sort of alternate dimension?</p><p>I consider what my next move should be. I can’t go back to hunting right now. That’s about the only thing I’m sure of. I’ll be out of a job, so this money Wade’s offering is tempting. I can’t go back and face Mr. Stark or my aunt may. I won’t be able to explain. They’ll think I’ve gone crazy for letting a werewolf go. They won’t understand and I’m dreading seeing their disappointed faces. I have nowhere to go and no job. Maybe if I had more information about the wolves… </p><p>“I live in a community with other wolves, my friends,” Wade explains. “It’s nice there. Lone wolves don’t make it on their own.”</p><p>“Good thing I’m not a wolf then,” I say. Going to visit a community of werewolves sounds like a bad idea.</p><p>“Life isn’t all about suffering. Take a chance. You might like it.”</p><p>“You don’t know me.”</p><p>“I know I shouldn’t trust you, but I do,” he says. “I know you can help me, that we can help each other. Take a chance. What have you got to lose?”</p><p>He trusts me even after everything. But do I trust him? I don’t really have anything to lose at this point. “Fine, tell me all the details and I’ll think about it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you think of this story? Is anyone interested in me continuing it?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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